Away From The Sun
by Smudge93
Summary: Tag to Fresh Blood. Sam and Dean just left Gordon behind but Dean has some unfinished business. Set between the final warehouse scene and the one fixing the car.


**Author's Chapter Notes:**

Dean always likes to finish a job and the boys just left Gordon lying on the floor of the warehouse so I figured he'd go back and do the right thing by him, monster or not.

First published on another site - 28/05/08

Away From The Sun

Dean Winchester had lain awake since they had got back from their altercation with Gordon. He could hear Sam's gentle even breathing and thought again of how reckless Sam had been in tackling a vamped up Gordon without any sort of weapon. Dean had to admit though that his brother's improvisation methods could not be faulted, the barbed wire a very effective substitute for a machete.

Dean's hand reached for his own neck, Gordon's little 'love' bite still throbbed despite Sam's expert first aid on it. This however, was not what was keeping him awake.

The thing that stood between Dean and a good night's rest was the fact that they had just left Gordon there. He couldn't understand why this was such a problem for him, Gordon had tried to kill his brother twice, so why did it cut Dean up inside to have left him to rot on the warehouse floor?

He thought he may know the answer to that though, when the brothers had first met Gordon, he and Dean had clicked and for a moment he had had someone to talk to, to open up to about all the things that troubled him, all the thoughts he had inside that would scare the hell out of his little brother and he had been grateful for this release. Sam was wrong that Dean had used Gordon to fill the hole that his father's death had left in him but he'd used him to cover it over for him for a little while until he could fill it in by himself. Gordon and Dean were so similar in outlook with their hunting that it scared Dean a little, but he knew when it came to family they were light years apart, Gordon had killed his because it was evil, Dean was prepared to die for his, evil or not.

He sat up quietly so as not to wake Sam and grabbed his clothes from the chair. Once dressed, he opened the door of the motel room and stepped out into the night. He opened the trunk of the Impala, unnecessarily checking that he had everything that he needed and then climbed in and backed the car slowly out of the space.

The roads were empty and he let the big car stretch its muscles, revelling again in the sheer pleasure that driving this thing of beauty gave him. He skilfully navigated the car through the narrow streets and pulled up at the loading bay of the warehouse were Gordon's body lay.

Opening the trunk of the car he fetched out the plastic sheeting and his bag and headed inside. Dean had no problem putting the body on the sheeting but found that he didn't want to touch Gordon's head. He had disposed of plenty of supernatural beings in his time but never one that he'd known personally and he had to admit it freaked him. The fact that he had bought this head a drink and had chatted with it in a bar entered Dean's head unbidden and that was the thought that made him lose all that he had eaten that day. Dean tried to concentrate on the fact that this head had also tried to kill him and his brother, but that only eased his misgivings slightly. He made sure that the bag was opened wide enough and then at full arms length tried to roll Gordon's head inside. He didn't roll it in far enough the first time and it rolled back, stopping at his foot, Gordon's unseeing eyes staring at him.

"What are you looking at! Please God stop staring at me!" Dean's voice was barely a whisper. He rolled the eyes away from him with his foot.

It took three further attempts to get it in far enough to stop it rolling back out and now he had another problem. He needed both hands to haul Gordon's body outside which meant that he'd have to put the bag with the head in it over his shoulder. Dean didn't know why this made him squeamish, hell he was a professional but he didn't like it all the same, and every step he took caused Gordon's head to bang gently off his back.

By the time Dean got outside the sweat was pouring off him and he felt physically ill again. Almost throwing the head in the trunk he lifted the corpse into the Impala and closed the lid. His legs gave way and he slid down to rest for a minute against the bumper. Sincerely beginning to wish that he hadn't bothered, Dean hauled himself up and set out in the car.

He had spotted a small graveyard on his way in and out of town and he pulled the Impala right up on the grass at the back of it. Getting the shovel from the truck he discarded his jacket and began to dig, so close to the Impala that it was in danger of actually sliding in. Two hours he dug until he was satisfied that the hole was big enough and deep enough. He lifted Gordon's body out and rolled it into the grave. He stood and stared hatefully at the Impala's trunk, the head, of course, as far back in this as it could get. He caught the handles of the bag and pulled, only to be rewarded with the bag catching on something in the trunk and ripping. He sighed as threw the now empty bag into the grave.

"Damn it! Some people just don't know when to give up. Gordon, you are a son of a bitch!"

He searched the car for something else to use to lift the head out without touching it and came up with his brother's jacket that he'd tossed into the back seat. Dean emptied the pockets and then walked back to the trunk. Quickly, so he wouldn't have time to think about it he leant in and picked up the head, trying desperately to ignore the squelching sound as he squeezed it a little too hard. He tossed the head and Sam's jacket into the open grave.

Dean poured the lighter fuel over the grave and stepped back.

"Well Gordon, I kinda liked you; I did, well until you went psycho killer on Sam's ass.

I forgive you for going after him you know, because I know why you did it and you were right about me, I can't stop him if the worst happens, I can't because then I'll become you, and frankly Gordon, I'd rather be dead. Rest easy, you crazy, mad ass, son of a bitch."

Dean watched as the body burned and then slowly filled in the grave. He'd taken Gordon's knife when Sam had killed him and he now used that as a marker. He paused over the grave briefly and then he turned and left.

Once back in the motel room, Dean lay on the bed, still fully clothed, and instantly fell into a dead sleep.

Sam sat up and looked at his brother; he could smell the lighter fuel and knew exactly what Dean had done. Unable to sleep now Sam looked at the clock, 5am, he got dressed and wondered briefly what he had done with his jacket.

He left the motel room to go get some coffee and thought about his brother sneaking off in the middle of the night to lay to rest a man who had hunted them down, unable to ask for Sam's help in case he didn't understand.

Sam did though, he got it, and he knew that in the simple act of putting Gordon Walker to rest Dean had finally proven to himself that he was nothing like him. Dean still had a soul that cared.

The next thought froze Sam, _at least he did for now._


End file.
